


In Nomine

by orphan_account



Category: Frozen (2013), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Cuddles are had, Established Relationship, Gen, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, Sweet, The Power of Names, everyone should write about semiotics and how Eugene only wants to make out, some talk about religion but its pretty academic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Professor Spork's OT4 universe.  Rapunzel, Eugene, Kristoff and Anna talk about magic, and the meaning of names.</p><p>(now edited to actually be readable by human eyes, sorry about that!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Nomine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [just this heart with much too much to share](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139545) by [ProfessorSpork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorSpork/pseuds/ProfessorSpork). 



> Set in the same universe as _just this heart with much too much to share_ , which you all need to read now. (You could probably understand this story without it, but it helps to be aware that they're all in a bit ol' poly love-pile and also Professor Spork's story is awesome.)
> 
> I am probably taking a lot of liberties with when and where rampion grows, and likely a number of linguistic liberties too, because I'm the author so nyah.

“No, names are _important_.  Like, magical important.  Kristoff, you know what I mean, right?”  Anna looks over at him, appealing to her boyfriend for help.  

  
    Who continues darning his pullover. (Oh, sure, Anna has assured him that there were seamstresses in the castle who could do that, but he’s done his own mending for years now. And he isn’t as confident as she is that the well-born young ladies who embroidered any and everything even know how to darn.  Besides, it’s soothing.)  Not feeling any particular need to look up from his work, Kristoff only replies “Anna, have you been talking to the trolls without me again?  Because I told you, Greywacke is really old even for a troll and bit…touched.  Maybe don’t take everything he says as pure truth?”

  
    Anna makes a face, annoyed.  “No, I have not been talking to the trolls, this is something everyone knows, at least everyone in Arendelle.  Names are important, and they’re powerful because they mean things.”

  
    Rapunzel cocks her head to one side — at least she bothers to look up from her mending, Anna notes.  And make eye contact.  For a moment.  “Oh, no, we have that too.  The meanings thing, at least.  Although it’s more like a game than anything else, and besides half the time it’s just something in Greek or Latin or Hebrew.  Kristoff, have you got a pair of scissors I can borrow?  Mine need sharpening.”

  
    Kristoff hands over the tiny shears he’s been using, and Rapunzel finishes one patch, then starts on the next.  She finds mending soothing too.

  
    Eugene is stretched out on the sofa, attempting to look alluring in hopes that Anna will join him.  He knows the power in naming things, thank you very much, and would rather be kissing — again, please and thank you very much.

  
    Anna does not join him.

  
    “You can do magic with names.  All the stories say.”  

  
    Kristoff finally looks up and smiles at her.  “Stories?”  He laughs and holds up his hands at Anna’s glare.  “What?  Yes, okay, names are a thing.  But not quite the way you think.  Seriously, the trolls get this stuff.  Even if they can’t explain it.”    

  
    Anna crosses her arms, not particularly enjoying this whole thing where everyone either doesn’t feel like talking (Rapunzel), laughs at her (Kristoff) or is making eyes at her but not helping in any way (Eugene, which come to think of it is like his permanent setting).  “Then how?  I know there’s other magic out there…”

  
    Kristoff actually does still his hands this time.  This is deeper, older than troll magic, magic that was maybe older than people even.  This wasn’t something that could be put into language easily, not that he ever found words easy.  How was he supposed to explain to…

  
    Well.  To a woman who had turned to ice to save her sister, to a man who died and then was brought back when his beloved wept over him, the last bit of magic in her putting breath back into him.  

  
    Okay, maybe this is a thing he can do, given the audience.

  
    “It’s not the meaning of the name that’s powerful, it’s that it exists, and it’s known.  Knowing someone’s name…it’s bigger than magic, really.  It means you can shape how a person is known.  You can change who they are.  The name itself isn’t the magic part, it’s that it’s a symbol.  It’s how you travel, when you can’t travel.”  He looked around at them, his closest, his only (human) friends. (Sven never asks about stuff like this.  The deepest truths of what it means to be human do not bother reindeer.)

  
    “How is that supposed to hurt someone?”  The entire kingdom saw Elsa kill the summer, and bring it back after Anna froze and thawed for love.  Symbols are not frightening, after what Anna’s seen.

  
    Eugene smiles wryly at that because like names, he’s good with symbols; the thing that is the thing, and more than the thing.  The Lost Princess’ crown wasn’t just valuable for being dripping with diamonds.  “Give me Elsa’s crown, and I’ll break it apart in the market square.  Gold is soft and my hands are strong, and then you tell me symbols don’t matter.”  He takes a defensive pose when Anna whips around to glare at him.  “ _Hypothetical_.  Making a point here, don’t actually want to die in a hail of icicles!”

  
    Kristoff nods, and retrieves his shears, another tear mended.  The sweater was still more fabric than holes, and would last him a good long time yet.  “It’s not the meaning of the name that gives it power, it’s the person.”

  
    “But the meaning must be important somehow,” Rapunzel points out, setting her own mending aside, done for the day.  “Otherwise why would anyone care?”

  
    Anna shrugs.  “I guess it’s like a gift.  ‘Anna’ means favour, sometimes grace, depending.  So at least it means something nice.”

  
    Kristoff smiles and holds out an arm to her.  “It does.  I think names are more like a prayer, though.  Grace is love that is given unconditionally.  Love that isn’t deserved, but a gift for no reason other than joy.”  And wasn’t that a prayer and a half he’d never made, but was answered anyway.

  
    Anna nestles close at this, kisses him softly.  “Hey.  ‘Deserve’ is an awful word.”

  
    Kristoff agrees silently, wraps his arms around her.

  
    “What does your name mean?” Rapunzel asks softly.

  
    Kristoff shrugs.  “Bearer of Christ.  I guess it’s a prayer for protection.  Not bad for a kid who was gonna grow up with ice.”  And because if you are the kind of people his parents were, if you live that far up the mountain, that far away from people, it is extremely sensible to name your child something that will comfort the men of the church, but this is not a conversation he wants to have this day.  Or any day, actually.

  
    “And Eugene is well-born, or good birth,” Rapunzel added.  “From the Greek.  I think.”

  
    From his sofa, Eugene laughs, not a little bitterly.  “Thank you, unknown lady at the orphanage who named me.  That’s a good one.”

  
    Kristoff’s smile matches his, for cynicism.  “Well, we know where you got your sense of humour.”

  
    “No.”  Rapunzel’s voice is firm.  “You said it’s a prayer, the hope for what someone will be, or part of it.  Eugene’s not named such to throw it in his face.  It’s because it’s _well that he was born_.  His existence is an answered prayer; he makes the world better just by being.”  She speaks simply, matter-of-factly.  This is not a revelation to her, but a daily truth.

  
    Eugene, though, is finding it really hard to do anything other than swallow hard, and reach for Rapunzel, and then hold her close.  They are all totally ridiculous, getting so emotional about some idle question, and yet this is maybe the kindest thing anyone has ever said to him, and he’s overwhelmed for a moment at this grace, at the woman who loves him enough to believe he’s a blessing, not a joke, and the grace of a whole room full of people who love him.  It is possible that someday he will not wake up in a state of quiet awe, but not any day soon.

  
    Rapunzel nestles close, glad of the distraction.  Glad to remind Eugene how loved, how important he is, and glad no one’s asked her name yet, because it’s basically the opposite of a prayer.  Actually, not even that, it’s just stupid and makes no sense.  She strokes the back of her husband’s neck, fingers gliding over the baby-soft hair there, moulds herself so he can hold her close.

  
    The rest of the day is lighter, the four of them passing the time as they usually did, the comfort of routine and teasing and pleasing themselves and each other.  It’s not until the next day after breakfast that Anna remembers.

  
    “What’s your name mean?” she asks, slipping her arm through Rapunzel’s as they head for the library.  It’s become their spot, especially now with winter coming on and none of them really wanting to spend all day outside in the increasing chill.  “I never asked yesterday.”

  
    Rapunzel shrugs.  “It’s stupid.  It just an old name for a plant.  I think Mother liked the sound of it is all.”

  
    “Rapunzel,” Anna sounds out, drawing out the ‘nnn’ in the centre, and the final ‘el’ sounds, tasting each syllable.  “It is pretty.  Exactly right for you,” she adds.

  
    Rapunzel half-smiles and shakes her head.  “Thank you, but it’s silly, really.  Kristoff, will you read to us?  Please?”  His voice is light and warm, and she likes how he gets excited while reading the story, going so fast Eugene usually tackles him to retrieve the book and take over narration duties before Kristoff forgets and lapses into silence, eyes racing ahead.

  
    “Of course, if you like.”  He looks at Rapunzel carefully though, not yet heading for the bookcase where they keep their favourites.  “What kind of plant?”

  
    “Huh?  Oh.  Rampion.  I don’t know what it is exactly, though.  What?  _What_?”  Because Kristoff is smiling, slow and gentle and true, a rare smile even in these days.

  
    “Rampion is the first of the greens of spring,” he explains.  “It’s a sign the Hungry Gap is over, that winter’s  over.  Up in the mountains, it’s usually the first fresh thing you eat in months.  It means you survived another winter, and that life is coming back.”  Kristoff shakes his head.  “Your mother had a hard time carrying you, right?  Without the flower, neither of you would have…have made it?”

  
    “Um.  Yes?”  This was not in the books, this light in Kristoff’s eye that remembers the end of hunger, the craving for fresh, green things when snow still fills the hollows the sun can’t reach.  The way Anna’s hand tightens on her arm, just for a moment, rooting her in space.

  
    Kristoff just nods, and goes to pick out a book.  “I’d have named you after the thing that means the sun is back, and everything is going to be all right, too.”

  
    It’s not grace, or protection, or an answered prayer, but she’s good with the promise of new life.  Rapunzel’s always liked how what looked dead and gone comes back and builds a new world.


End file.
